Untitled Chpt. 1

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By Stephanie LaMonica Chapter 1

I woke with the senses of something great going horribly wrong. The sun broke through the clouds with a future outlook of despair. My theories are basically myths since they always seem to come out the way least expected. Light filtered into my room through the blinds. Mom must be up already. The sun hit every angle of my room, decimating each shadow with triumph except for one. Maybe it was the same for me, each bright spot in my life having its own shadow. I only say this because who would be in a good mood after realizing their life was merely being tormented for one’s own pleasure? It felt like it would be turn out to be a hot day in West Sacramento, California. Well for approaching winter anyways. Perfect timing for there to be sunshine after a constant rainfall for days on end. I slipped into the warmth of my faux furred boots and stood at my door to listen for any sounds of movement. Relief washed across my face and I turned my head to the time. 6:54 am. I’m never able to sleep anymore, the constant fear in my dreams and reality is barricading me into a corner, trapping me like I’m some wild animal. There’s no escaping to anywhere, there’s no safe place for me to hide. Home has lost it’s meaning, and in school I’m unspoken due to my constant worry. I’m hiding from the fact that it is safest to tell everybody the truth. “Tell them. Today.” The voice inside my head claws and claws for a way out to tell a friend, a stranger, anybody. I get stuck on my

own words when I finally find courage to brazen out about what had happened, about what my scars mean. My voice never came to me when I needed it most, and for that I detested myself. Today, I was stronger. I looked in the mirror and stared myself down with fury and rage, hoping to gather an excess amount of energy for my war of words to be spoken and heard. I didn’t leisure around my room like most days, but quickly ran around my room for clothes. I grew dizzy from my sudden movement around the room and I treaded down the stairs to greet my mom making breakfast. Of course, I dare not to say anything because I may lose the ability to speak the words I’ve been urging myself to speak for the past week. My stomach hurt. This reminded me with difficulty of the scars on my torso, and the pain of me lying on the ground helplessly. I snatched the waffles from the toaster as they popped up and sat at the engraved mahogany wooden table. “Hi honey, how are you feeling today?” My mom asked, and I could tell she was careful not to upset me. I was easily breakable, and she didn’t want to toy with her most prized possession. She fiddled with the dishtowel in her hands. I stopped on my breath, quick to think of an excuse not to talk. I stuffed part of the waffle into my mouth as if I hadn’t eaten in days. I guess I hadn’t really one way or the other. I made a sound ushering I couldn’t talk and lifted the corners of my mouth into a smile to reassure her I was fine. It was a lousy attempt, but it worked. Her shoulders dropped and resumed her position at the sink washing

dishes. I swallowed with a pain in my throat from the under-chewed food and got up to leave. I gave my mother a kiss on the cheek and headed for the front door. It was even brighter than before, and darkness washed over me along with strength. I stood on the front porch looking at the circle of houses around me and felt a sense of security, as if they were walls keeping out the hurt. This feeling only lasted a second, because I knew these walls had weak spots and holes letting anyone through. I walked to my car, pulling out the keys in my coat. They jingled merrily, and I opened my car door as the trigger unlocked from the inside. I kept away from the radio. As much as I wanted to listen to music, I felt the need to keep my mind alert to every detail that was pronounced and insignificant around me. I turned my car onto the road and swung out to the busier highways and drove towards the high school. Being early to school was a first, but I was determined to make everything right with myself. I immediately saw my friends and they glanced my way uneasily, fretful of how dire my attitude would be today. I sent them a heart-warming smile, the kind that reassured my mother earlier that all was fine. As I approached them I saw their faces lighten with the day and every step I took. Once I was in their circle, one girl popped up her head and asked me how I was. She was unfamiliar to me, and had reddish brown hair that would shine when she moved her head as if she were under a spotlight. She had a soft complexion and fierce dark copper eyes. She made it hard to look sweet because her stare shot through me like a bullet. Her smile was sincere, but vengeance was fitted to every inch of her face.

“Hello, my name is Clara.” She flashed a perfect set of white teeth to me and continued before I had the chance to respond, “we haven’t met, but your friends told me about you. ” She sounded sure of herself and she extended an arm to me. I shook her hand politely and both our arms dropped to our sides. We stared at each other blankly for another second and I straightforwardly introduced myself, recovering the time that was spent. “Hi, I’m Jane. It’s nice to meet you.” I didn’t want to seem rude, so I let a sign of contentment sweep over my face and follow over to her direction. Something about her told me she could keep a secret, and I could immediately see a side of her that was trusting yet detrimental to my own personal needs.

*

*

*

I walked around to the building that had a metal three secured to the front and the back. I was immediately deadbeat when I walked through the door. The fluorescent lights made a light buzzing noise you could only hear if you strained your ears to listen for it. I took a seat and readied myself for English. Mr. Gonzales droned on about Shakespeare’s technique in writing. For as far as being lost in my thoughts go, my attention was pulled towards an unfamiliar boy walking up to the door. A cool breeze washed over the room as the door swung open. His eyes shone with the intensity of a thousand fireworks going off at once in this poor lighting. His hair was the deepest shade of brown, and had a drastic auburn shine when it caught the light. I cocked my head, trying to read his mood that was expressioned on his face. He stood under the door hinge with a blank

expression as he stretched his gaze across the room. Scanning each person carefully yet quickly, he made note of each person’s face in a quarter of a second. I felt his eyes meet mine, but it was too quick for me to be certain he had even looked my way. Pain was stricken across my face, which I was sure he felt for some distraught reason. His eyes turned harsh when Mr. Gonzales interrupted his focus on us. He watched the finer details on his face, his oil-slick black hair that still had the marks from his comb, the wrinkles—if he had any—and his expression. They both stiffened. “Adam. Take a seat.” Mr. Gonzales never broke his gaze from him, and Adam, never seemed to care much apparently for whether or not he even tried to attack him. What was the conflict? What could have possibly sparked this rivalry between each other or, between he and Adam’s family? Mr. Gonzales had only come here last year, and Michael is entirely new here, I think. I had not been here 3 years ago. Heat suddenly rose in the room, and tension stirred, making the room dizzy to focus in. I grew feeble-minded and tired. So long to the anger wrapped up inside me. It was taken away with a catch and release of my breath. To go deeper in thought, I realized it was when I greeted Clara. My mood may not be set anymore, but I still plan to tell someone. “Jane, what is your opinion on the matter?” I looked up, caught off guard. “I’m sorry, I don’t feel well. Can I please go to the nurse?” I felt I had no other option. I couldn’t speak anymore, and I was on the verge of falling asleep. He pursed his lips slightly and sighed.

“Sure.” I jumped up from my seat and casually gathered my books in one arm while grabbing my backpack with the other. I swung it around my shoulder, slapping against my back with a thud. I moved much too fast for my brain to register my hand-eye coordination and I reached for the doorknob and missed, falling half way. The doorknob sprung back and bolted itself. My books remained in my arm fortunately from my tight clutch but my backpack slipped off my shoulder and onto the tiled floor. I reached again for the door and it swung an inch from my nose, and I caught it right in front of my face. I couldn’t move or then I would fall over, making an even bigger scene than I had already made. “I will escort her to the nurse if you don’t mind.” The voice sounded unfamiliar and I looked in the reflection of the glass on the door to see Adam already collecting his books and headed in my direction. He carried no backpack, but a few small books and he lifted my backpack from the floor and fit it snug on his shoulder. His hand gripped my arm, which was of a dying heat compared to the cool air outside. “You don’t need to help me, but thanks.” I said as soon as we were out of earshot from the classroom. I struggled even harder for words. “Yes I do.” His face was empty of thought, but filled with rage. I could judge that the only thought that would come close to his mind was to send me safely to the nurse, as if an obligation. I looked at him dryly, searching for a soft spot. I was able to feel and see that his muscles contained none of the sort. His body formed a barrier that I couldn’t break. That was the end of the conversation,

but I did not wish for it to be. I wanted answers, and was determined to acquire them. “So, what seems to be a problem with our English teacher?” I stared out ahead of me, terrified intolerably of what his reaction might be. “What’s it matter?” I looked up in retort to his abrupt response. He fixed his eyes on the nurse’s office. “Well, you two seem to already know each other.” I was more alert for him to rejoinder with some question more than anything. “Yeah, so why’s that a problem to you?” He was careful to pick his words to redirect the conversation so he was the one asking the questions. “No problem. It’s just, it looks like there was type of history between you two, or him and your family.” I tested myself, to see how far I could go with this banter. “Who said anything about my family?” His voice hardened and his grip tightened around my arm giving slight pain and numbness. “Nobody. It just wouldn’t make sense for a teacher to dislike a student so suddenly. And, vise versa.” I tried to shrug my shoulders under his grip but to him I was trying to break free. “I’m not letting go until you’re safe.” His eyes shot down to meet my face and I finally saw how tall his was in association to me. His hair reminded me of Clara’s, which made me wonder. “Is Clara your sister?” I was sure she was, they had a faint resemblance, but in ways they were much alike whether the characteristics were visible or not.

“No.” The impression of fear was marked in his eyes as they widened. His pupils dilated drastically, diminishing any color he had in his eyes. It was hard to keep up and I was still dizzy, now slightly nauseas from the irregular walking path we took. My stepping was clumsy as my feet dragged behind me. If it weren’t for Adam pulling me forward I would have lost my footing by now. Suddenly I tripped over a bump on the path and I couldn’t find the strength to stop myself. Adam caught me when I nearly landed with my face in the dirt and set me down on the ground. “Are you alright?” He asked with impatience in his voice, but he was still concerned. “Well I don’t think so. That’s probably why I’m going to the nurse.” “Right.” He said that as if he had forgotten where we were to be going. “Let’s go.” He began to bend towards my body and clasped his hands around my waist and arm. I was making a great effort to get up and resume walking but there was no strength left in me to pull myself up even with the help of Adam. Nausea was really beginning to hit me from all the quick movements. “I can’t get up.” I panted for the words from straining to lift myself. Adam sighed and removed his hands from my waist and arm and replaced them to my back and legs to carry me. His grip was firm but it was easy to snuggle in against his body for heat. I had so many questions left for him to answer but I knew they weren’t going to be answered any time soon. I watched his eyes focus on the nurse’s office again, never looking anywhere but ahead, never blinking. I could now see that he had mahogany coated irises and streaks of gold shooting out from his pupils. His pupils were blacker than death, and the depth only got deeper the farther I looked into

them. His eyes were astounding, that had such vibrant color and clarity I’ve never seen before in my life. I grew unbearably tired and was knocked out within seconds with the image of his face the last thing I saw. *

*

*

I woke again with a blaze of light streaming into my eyes. I heard voices murmuring behind a foggy-glassed door. My mom I suppose. I can recognize her by the worry in her voice anywhere. “No, no she doesn’t need to see a psychiatrist. We’ve considered that before.” How embarrassing to have my mom and school consider options so drastic. I looked across the room and saw Adam sitting across the room watching me. I hope he hadn’t heard what they said. He stared at me modestly as if he was in the right place at the right time to come and save me. “How long have I--” “Just under two hours.” “You’ve been--” “Uh, yeah. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up so I know you’re okay.” “Oh.” My nausea went away but my spiraling vision remained a frenzy. Adam walked to poke his head out the door and whisper something to the nurse. The nurse came in a short while after Adam took his spot back at his seat. She handed me Tylenol and said that I should be fine soon. Adam must have seen the pain in my face from stilly being dizzy or else he never would have known to request Tylenol for me. He helped me get up and my mom walked in the door with her hands folded across her stomach. “Hi, how are you feeling?” It felt like a repeat of this morning.

“I’m better now thanks to Adam.” He deserved credit because he’s the one who carried me to the nurse’s office. My mom instantaneously turned in his direction and placed a hand over her heart. “Oh, I’m sorry. I never introduced myself.” A streak of pain flashed across her face, and I was sure Adam noticed it as well. “It’s quite alright. My name is Adam.” He extended an arm in her direction along with flashing her a smile that fully brightened his face. I’ve never seen him smile before, but it is absolutely gorgeous. “My name is Anna; it is a great pleasure meeting you Adam. Thank you for helping out my daughter.” It kind of bothered me when my mom went proper while meeting someone new, especially if she tries to suck up to them. “It was no problem, really. I was just lucky to find her before she got sick outside.” He said this with complete innocence, but his story made no sense. He was helping me walk to the nurse and I fell. Then he carried me to the nurse, end of story. There was something more to him than I thought. He is hiding some secret, bewildering me to more confusion and vertigo. “Mom,” I intruded without having the slightest concern for my politeness, “Adam and I have to go to class now. We’ll be late.” I began to stand up and the room started spinning again. I felt the warm hand on my back keeping my balance for me so my mother wouldn’t suspect I was still dizzy. He knew as well as I did that I didn’t want to take any chances with getting caught. “Alright, but take it slow. I don’t want you getting sick again.”

“No, I wouldn’t want that.” Then she leaned over and kissed my forehead and left through a glass door. Soon Adam and I were walking alone outside, with his hand still on my back for balance. “It’s lunch time. Your mom is gone so you can go and rest in the nurse’s office until the Tylenol begins to take effect, and I can bring you food if you’d like.” “No, I’ll be fine.” My voice sounded bleak. “You can’t act around me you know. I’m not easily fooled.” “Then in my opinion, we are both terrible actors. Why did you tell my mother that you found me?” “Well because--” “Yeah?” I now know that being Adam’s friend was going to require patience to get the answers I wanted. “It made for a better story, and it made sense.” He seemed ashamed in his answer, and he deserved to be. “For who? For yourself or me? And how does that story make any sense at all?” Adam’s explanations were indecisive and rash. But it was just that that tended to make me so curious about him. “Well, it made an interesting story for the both of us, and it just does. I needed an excuse to stay with you.” His explanation was sincere, that there was no way I could deny my extreme fascination for him any longer. “I’m lost, but I don’t want to know anything else. It’s too much trying to get inside your head.” I think this might be the first time that he wasn’t able to trace my expression to an explanation of what I was thinking. Maybe it was safer and easier to talk to Adam without him having a clue. I picked up on the fact that he knew when I was in pain. There was a

majority of times that there was no expression on my face giving away any emotion when he determined I was in pain. “Oh, okay.” He blinked and tensed indefinitely, possibly plagued by confusion. He was evidently caught off guard from my impractical response. I was almost certain he was expecting less than I give him credit for. I trembled in my footsteps as Adam walked in uniform to his shoulders. Discomfited silence hung in the air until we reached the doors of the cafeteria. Suddenly everything began to hit me at once. Dizziness, nausea, weakness, megrim from my exhaustion, and a migraine. My eyes grew numb in their sockets and I could only bear to gawk at the emptiness in the air that filled around the students and faculty. Adam lead the way through the crowd, and I never once felt his gaze on me. He looked singlemindedly over to the food, and that made everything worse. I’d better tell him that I couldn’t tolerate having food in my sight, let alone having to smell it sitting under my nose. “I can’t go over there.” I spoke aloud and quickly. I grabbed his wrist as I spoke to get his attention, afraid of having to repeat myself. “Why?” He glared at me with a look of oddity and madness. The look I feared but was happy to see for his concern. I placed my hand limply over my stomach and looked away ashamed of myself for no apparent reason. “Oh.” He suddenly looked away, ashamed in himself as well for some apparent reason. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He dropped his hands from me and moved across the cafeteria to the food stand. He passed the

wraps, salads, and sandwiches then stopped at the beverages. As much as it pained me to watch him near the food, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The muscles in my fingers contracted as I brushed them through my hair then to rub my temples. My energy was being drained from me like I was in the midst of some psychic vampire’s presence. Everyone began to rush past me into blurs, and they kept coming quicker, faster. Every now and again I would feel the wind of someone passing inches from me and my head would spin. My eyes started to sputter, not able to keep up with the movement. They felt as if they were rolling uncontrollably in my impassive, unresponsive head. I heard a pounding like someone playing drums in my ears. I tried to mute the sound with sheathing my ears utterly with the sleeves over my frost bitten hands. I shut my eyes like a trap being sprung, refusing to open them again. My legs buckled unexpectedly as if someone had kicked the backs of my knees. Like I had needed prior notice to know that would happen. My hands slapped the concrete made floor, shaking my bones up to my shoulders. The side of my head hit just hard enough for my eyes to shake and my vision to blur completely. The drums in my head became one constant beat and I pressed my hand to my head to block the pain. Without much help, pain prolonged into my arm and deeper into my head. I repeatedly hard-pressed my eyes shut to refocus my vision but I was mildly successful. A shadow whirred down around me and lifted my torso into his or her arms, supporting my back and head. Not able to focus on the features, I found myself lying in Adam’s arms. “Jane?” This was the first time he spoke directly into my face, and I inhaled at the moment he spoke my name. His voice was filled with panic, and I could only picture his face.

“I’m fine. I just got a little dizzy.” I was again, incompetent to gain my strength and pull myself up. Adam already had me by my waist, hoisting my body up. “I can’t agree. That fall should have fixed your deprived common sense. You’re not fine.” He carried my dead weight over to an empty table and handed me water and a banana. His straight face was bugging me, wishing he would stop. “So?” My brain was slow but regaining its energy to realize what was going on outside my focus. People stared at me with distress sewn in their eyes. Was I worse than I thought? “Now you’ve lost me.” He knew I was urging for an answer to one question in particular. I could see in his face he was readying himself for the worst. “Then we’re even. But I guess I should ask out of interest.” I liked the idea of leading him in places he didn’t expect, but my ways were much simpler than that. “And that question would be?” He had lost the strength in his voice, only capable of talking in a civil manner now. “Well, how do you always seem to know when I’m in pain?” I had to ask. Curiosity was burning me from the inside out. However, the question seemed to startle him in a way that his body became so rigid I could throw a rock at him and he still wouldn’t move. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting the worst. “Because, it’s written on your face. All the time.” He leaned on the table with his arms crossed and bowed his head. He was much more uneasy and looked from the corners of his eyes to another table which just so happened to be where my friends sat. They had not seen what

happened, but were engaging in conversations with one another that were utterly disputable. “You know, you are still no good at acting. I can secrete my emotions.” I leaned in towards him, and experimented on how far I could push him. “Well I am the one person who can see past what you’re hiding.” “And how does that work?” “I’m different.” He felt that was a good enough answer and this would make for a good conclusion to our dispute. “I won’t keep you anymore.” He said as he got up to take his leave like he was unwelcome. “You don’t have to, but if you want to that’s your decision.” “Yeah. Besides, some of your friends are growing a bit livid on their conversation. I think you should settle it now.” “I’m no good at arguments. I’m more of a person who sits on the sidelines and watches the action.” “I think you can handle it. Anyways, it is your battle to fight.” “What do you mean?” “Go over and see for yourself.” He dipped his head in one smooth curve in their direction, gesturing for me to inquire my friends what they were talking about. “Alright, you win.” I let out a puff of air in defeat. I really am not that great in arguments and Adam knew it. I give in too easily because there really is no point in wasting energy over heated opinions. We set ourselves in different paths, his towards the door, mine towards the table. “Will you be able to survive a few more periods on your own?” Adam called back to me, by now knowing of my answer.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I said as I looked back over my shoulder. “Mm, okay.” He raised his eyebrows in acceptance of my answer although he only decided not to state his true opinion. “Hey, what’s going on?” I looked around to examine each face individually. Slower, but just as carefully as when Adam scanned the classroom for his first appearance. “Hey! We were just discussing you and Adam.” A smile pulled across Tess’ face. Lorelei was just as hyped up for my response as Sam was except she was on edge of sanity. Sam has always been the one in our circle of friends to find out everything about everybody. Like a child has to have its candy to happy, Sam needs her scandals. That’s also a good reason why Sam is on the school newspaper, a subtle yet nosy way to find out the whole lot. As I looked around to the yearning faces, I could see they wanted me to restore the flame on the topic. And without more ado, I felt a piece of myself missing.

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